


harder than you think

by euphoriaspill



Series: moment of truth [2]
Category: On My Block (TV)
Genre: Brothers, Catholicism, Day At The Beach, Drabble Collection, F/M, Gangs, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Kid Fic, Pre-Canon, Step-parents, Underage Smoking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-10-19 18:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20661932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoriaspill/pseuds/euphoriaspill
Summary: As long as Cesar can remember, Oscar's been stepping in where their parents couldn't.





	1. in uncharted waters

**Author's Note:**

> working on some longer fics for the diaz bros (as i've talked some people's ears off about already lol), but i love these clowns as babeys :(

Cesar comes up to him, lower lip sticking out, as he’s sitting on their rundown porch. “Don’t tell Moms, _cariño_,” Oscar says as he stubs his cigarette out— he heard something about secondhand smoke being bad for kids. _Puta_ spends all day with a crack pipe and starts hollering if she catches him flicking a lighter alive. “What up?”

He looks like someone just ran over his puppy. “I hate being at Tío Cuchillos’s place when Mami works.”

“You better back that mouth up, he takes care of you,” Oscar automatically snaps. That’s all he needs, Cuchillos thinking he lets Cesar have an attitude, when he doesn’t even charge their moms to leave him at his crib. Then his eyes narrow, he clenches a fist. “Something happen over there?” It’s not exactly the crack den their own place is at this point, but despite the marginally nicer neighborhood, it’s still a meeting point for Santos— Santos with guns, coke, short tempers. If any _hijo de puta_—

“Uh-huh,” he says, and Oscar’s heart kicks against his breastbone. “Dani’s always picking at me. She says I can’t play Barbies with her and Micaela and I have to go be in the yard ‘cause it’s not my house.”

Oh, thank God, some dumb fight between him and Cuchillos's kids. “You ain’t a girl, whatchu wanna play Barbies for, fool? She’s just teasing ‘cause she likes you.” He ruffles his hair, regrets it in a second, because it used to smell like no-tears shampoo and now he’s got ash worked into his scalp. “Where’s Tía Vicky, huh, she let them push you around?”

"Tía drinks a lot of orange juice and then she goes upstairs and takes a nap.” He digs at the ground with his worn-out sneakers. “I tried it once though and it tasted funny.”

Oscar wants to slap her, though he’s not big on doing that to_ hynas_, like Cesar doesn’t see enough of that druggie shit at home. “Okay.” He takes a deep breath, feels a sharp pain in his chest as it contracts. He’s been smoking too much lately. “Listen, g, I’ll cut your lil’ ass a deal, aight? You be good and handle her for another week, Friday, I’ll dip from school early and we’ll go somewhere.”

The promise slides out of his mouth easy, school hasn’t felt like it mattered since he crumpled that Pasadena Magnet application up and threw it in the trash. He’s fifteen, but he’s been driving since he was twelve, and he can borrow a car from his cousin Diego, probably. Cesar wrinkles his nose, gives him a hesitant look. “Go where?”

He’s about to say McDonald’s or something equally dumb, unleash him on the playground there for a hot minute, then stares into his eyes. Oscar didn’t cry when the old man put his hands on him, or when he got jumped in, or when Moms told him he’d never be any better than his bum-ass _padre_. He thinks Cesar could change that, could break him right in half. “You been to the beach before? Moms or Dad ever take you?”

He knows the answer before he hears him squeak out a “no”.

“Then it’s gonna be our secret, homes, so keep it zipped.” Oscar grins, for what feels like the first time in forever. “You’ve never seen something that big in your life.”


	2. stigmata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar probably should've known better than to bring Cesar into a house of God.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> despite having two good catholic friends and a catholic girlfriend, my people are orthodox and idk how catholic services work :(( pls be nice

“_Mano_, I’m_ bored_.” Cesar tries to take the whine out of his voice, he really does, but he can’t help it— he feels like he’s been sitting in this pew for a million years. “When can we go home?”

“_Calláte._“ Oscar gives him a hard nudge in the ribs without looking at him. “I told you, if you’re good, I’ll take you to McDonald’s after this.”

Cesar slumps forward as the priest keeps droning at the altar, his fancy jacket clinging to his skin in the LA heat. “Mami doesn’t make me go to church.”

“Mami doesn’t even make you brush your teeth.” Oscar’s got him there. “Look, you see that _vato_, couple rows up?” He points, something he always scolds Cesar for doing. “He’s Rosita’s stepdad. I’m tryna convince him not to point a .45 at me every time I walk inside his house.”

“Go in peace, to love and serve the Lord and one another,” the priest finally says, and Cesar jumps up from the pew, stretches out his aching legs. Oscar’s right, Mami doesn’t make him brush his teeth or dress up for church or do his homework or anything at all, since she got really sick. Sometimes she pulls him to her in bed and lets him nap with her, though he’s seven and getting a little old for that— calls him _cariño_, says she loves him more than Oscar. He likes hearing that, even if it makes his stomach twist when he remembers it later.

“You lost?” Rosita’s dad comes over to them, his gaze homing in on Oscar’s starched shirt and neatly-done tie. Rosita herself hovers next to him, almost unrecognizable without her usual heavy makeup on, her skirt brushing her kneecaps. She pushes the hair out of her eyes and smiles when she sees Oscar, though, dips her head all shy. “This ain’t the courthouse, son, it’s a house of God.”

“_Señor_, didn’t see you there,” Oscar says, respectful like he’s talking to Tío Cuchillos and no one else. “I was just takin’ Cesar to church. To hear the words of the good father, _sabes_?”

Rosita’s dad scoffs, points at Oscar's teardrop tattoo— he’s not having any of it. “You boutta go into confession later and tell the father about your latest kills?”

“You killed someone?” Cesar asks excitedly, tugging at Oscar’s sleeve. “Who?”

“Nobody, _nene_,” he says, squirming free of Cesar’s grip. “Ain’t we all sinners in the eyes of God?”

“_Joder_— _mija_, it’s like your lil’ boyfriend _wants_ me to shoot him.”

“Hey.” Oscar puts a hand on top of Cesar’s head. “Don’t cuss in front of the _chiquillo_, he don’t need to hear that kind of language.”

And after the millionth bit of condescension today, Cesar— well, he doesn’t think it through too much, he’s just in a bad, irritated enough mood to want to get on his brother’s nerves too. “_Mano_, what’s that big T on the wall supposed to be?”

Rosita’s dad leans down to Cesar's level, before Oscar can smack him into next Sunday. “That’s the cross Jesus died on for your sins.”

“Who’s Jesus?”

Oscar looks like he’s about to spontaneously combust; Rosita stifles a giggle behind her manicured hand. “You little _mocoso_— he _knows_ who Jesus is,” he tries to insist, but the desperation in his voice drains any credibility from it. “Don’t you?”

“I’m sure he does,” Rosita’s dad says, irony straining every syllable, as he ushers Rosita out of the church. “Next time I want to go to the circus, I’ll buy a ticket.”

Oscar’s eyes squint up like he’s staring directly at the sun, and he mutters some of the words Rosita’s dad wasn’t supposed to say around him. “When we get home? I’m gonna find wherever the hell Moms keeps the chancla.”

Cesar isn’t too worried about the threat, even as Oscar drags him out with a death grip on his arm— he claims he’s about to beat his butt twice a week, and never follows through. What’s a lot more worrying is that it’s going to be a long, long time before he sees the inside of a McDonald’s again.

**Author's Note:**

> my omb tumblr is @onmyblockparty if anyone wants to talk!!


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